Behind the Bradys
by bookwormillau
Summary: Jan and Peter begin the piece together the truth behind the Brady family, like why they are always happy, and why their family refuses to acknowledge their lives before Mike and Carol got married. They are in for a shock.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so I quit working on my other Brady story, since I re- read it, and decided it wasn't that good enough to continue. You may think I have given up a lot of my stories, but I assure you, my Beatles and Partridge Family ones WILL be continued, the Phineas Ferb one was just a oneshot. Anyways. Back to the story. Yah. N****ever fear, I'm replacing my old Brady story with this one. It basically explains the Bradys' past and why their past lives are never mentioned, and why they are so happy. It's mostly about Jan and Peter because, being the middle kids and all, they were always a bit differant than the others. Plus they are my favorite. This takes place around season three, by the way. **

**I hope you like. Reveiws please:) No pressure tho. **

**Jan's POV**

"Marcia." Jan brought up thoughtfully one day, chewing on the end of her white blonde hair. She cleared her throat uncertainly, and her eyes darted across the girl's bedroom, as if someone might be watching. "Do you ever think about…." Her throat tightened and she had to squeeze the words out. "…our father?"

"Dad?" Marcia asked innocently. "Of course. I think about him all the time. How could I not? We live in the same house, we eat dinner together, and he just helped me with my algebra. What sort of question is that, Jan?" She rolled her eyes and tucked a long golden strand of hair behind her ear, flipping her pencil over and going back to her homework.

Jan shifted uncomfortably on her bed. "Not….Mike Dad. I meant…you know, _Dad." _Her blue eyes averted Marcia's eyes purposely.

"Dad who? Honestly, Jan, you don't make any sense sometimes." Marcia dismissed her, giggling girlishly.

Jan's mind reeled, and she felt incredibly dizzy all of a sudden. She had to dig her fingernails into her bed sheets and clutch her sides to keep from collapsing."Hahaha…you're silly, Marcia. Of course you remember Dad." Her words were weak and hesitant, the way words sound when the person speaking them is collapsing inside.

"Nope. I haven't a _clue _what you're talking about." Marcia's voice was distant as she concentrated on her homework.

"Stop joking around. You know as well as I do what I'm saying."

"Really, Jan, is this one of your pranks?" Marcia's tone of voice, so disinterested and carefree, told Jan that she wasn't lying.

Jan furrowed her brow and settled deeper into her bed. Of course Marcia remembered Dad. Just because they hadn't seen him in over two years, and he didn't send child support money, and he never sent them presents or birthday cards, didn't mean their father should be forgotten. I mean, he still loved her. Didn't he?

_Love is a strong word,_ Jan, she reminded herself, shaking her head. Did he even remember her?

Just then, Cindy bounded into the room, her blonde pigtails flinging up and down. "Hi Marcia. Hi Jan. Watcha talkin' 'bout? "

Marcia frowned. "Jan's just being stupid."

_I am not!_ Jan wanted to protest, but as she opened her mouth to speak, she changed her mind and snapped it shut. Marcia would win this argument, as always. What was even the point?

Cindy looked puzzled. She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"She's talking nonsense again."

Jan finally burst, not caring how whiny she would sound. "It is not nonsense! We did have another father, once. Don't you remember, Cindy?"

Cindy thought about it for a moment. For a moment Jan's heart leaped as she thought there was a sparkle of recognition in the little girl's eyes.

Marcia gave a Cindy a judgmental look, and the look of remembrance fizzled out. "Nooo." Cindy said earnestly, her blue eyes wide and honest as she shook her head.

"Ugh. Forget I said anything." Jan grumbled. "Marcia's right. I'm dumb, okay? I'm making stuff up." She stood up and flounced out of the room in a huff, not even caring that she sounded like the moody teenager Marcia sometimes acted like.

She heard Marcia and Cindy giggle behind her, and she could picture them sharing a sisterly look. She knew exactly what the look would say, too: "Oh, Jan."

Jan sighed as she headed downstairs to get away from her sisters, feeling lonely and outcast. Feeling heavy, unwanted, a burden. Wondering if perhaps, somewhere, she was wanted. Her real dad had never wanted her. Mike had never cared for her as much as others. Carol had always felt Cindy and Marcia deserved to be pampered and babied, failing to give Jan any attention. The boys had always overlooked her.

Except maybe Peter. He loved her. Maybe not_ loved_ her. He just was the only one in the family who cared enough to talk to her.

She bumped into him in the hallway on her way down the steps. "Hey Jan, whatsa matter?" He asked, his freckled boyish face peering at her worriedly. "You look..upset or sumthin'."

"Oh, nothing. You know. Just the usual." Jan said cheerily, forcing herself for yet another time to wear the mask of happiness that everyone else in the family had so naturally. It was like there was no problems, nothing outside the sugary sweet happiness, no substance, just hugs and warmth and kisses and fatherly and sisterly and motherly love.

_Love._ Jan spat out the word. Like so many other words in the Brady vocabulary, it made her want to puke. Just listening to Cindy's lisp for a while or Marcia's never ending rants about high-school boys made her sick. Then there was Greg and Marcia's little thing for each other that couldn't be ignored, no matter how much they denied it. _That_ was of course, how Cindy and Bobby were always so sweet to each other. Abnormal as well. She had to hold back vomit thinking of how cheerfully Alice prepared the dinners without ever complaining that she never got to eat them and how her mother gave Mike a massage when he came from work.

It was like Jan's real dad had never existed.

_That's not something you just forget,_ Jan told herself, her jaw clenched. _It's really not._

Peter spoke up finally."Oh. All right then. If you say so. I mean, if you sure you're okay-"

"I am, Peter." Jan said appreciatingly, flashing him a grin that was, for once, real. Peter was sweet. "Thanks."

He squinted at her, suspiciously. "I didn't do nuthin'."" He shrugged and walked away.

She was just another Brady to deal with around here.

**_A/N: YAY! _REVEIW TIME! Man, I sound greedy. Okay. You don't have to reveiw me. If you don't want. You can if you feel like it tho. Please do. I will shut up now. Yes. I will sit down and shut up.**

**QUESTION TIME! In your reveiw, if you choose to leave one, please tell me your favorite Brady Bunch episode. Why? Because I'm interested, OK?**

**Thanks. **

**By the way, I've got tons planned to come for this story,alrighty? I'm talking alot. The next perspective is by Peter. So be excited! **

**That's about it. Thanks you guyses. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hey sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long, but here it is, finally, chapter two, from Peter's POV. I hope it was worth the late because I've got lots planned for this story. Anyway, happy reading!**_

_**PETER'S POV**_

_I'm failing_, Peter thought miserably, reaching down into his jean pocket to feel the crumpled report card he'd stuffed away from his parent's prying eyes.

He tromped up the stairs into the bedroom he shared with Greg and Bobby, grateful that Greg and Bobby were nowhere to be found. He climbed up the ladder to his bunk bed and flopped down on his pillow, staring at the ceiling.

_Boy, if Greg and Bobby were here, they'd give me hell about it. And Bobby'd go yodeling down the hallway blabbing to Dad._ A grin played at Peter's lips, though he didn't know why. Failing was never a good thing. Besides, he'd be grounded. Maybe they'd even make him call off his date with Iola Martin this week, and nothing was worth it without girls.

The Cs and Ds practically burned a whole through his pocket. His mind wandered, scanning his brain for excuses, something to tell Dad. Something to tell Carol.

_I miss Mom._ His thoughts shifted. It had been easier not to be so perfect around her. She hadn't minded Bs, or even Cs and Ds. She hadn't minded him saying "ain't" She hadn't minded him playing ball in the house, and in turn he didn't mind that maybe she wasn't the very best mother.

_But she was, _Peter reflected admiringly. _She was perfect, but sort of a different kind of perfect. Not fake. Not sugary. A blunt sort of perfect. Not very perfect at all. More like…real. _

"Perfect. Perfect. Everything has to be perfect when you're a Brady. Nothing is too perfect for the Bradys." His voice was high- pitched, cynical and it almost surprised him. He grabbed ahold of the side of his bed and swung himself down to the ground with a thud.

"Peter, are you okay up there?" Carol called upstairs, startled by the thump of Peter hitting the ground.

"Yeah, fine." Peter muttered, turning to face his bedroom mirror. He studied his reflection intently, shoving his fingers through his mussed, curly hair, trying to tame it. His anxiety shone through in his eyes, no longer were they sparkling and deep brown, but dull, empty, hollow. He hated looking into his own eyes, and he hated that he hated it. He felt a stab of grief and guilt every time he passed a mirror, and it sunk him, for it was like part of her owned him still. Yet on him they were tired, lonely. On her they'd been complex, loving, shining, enthusiastic. He couldn't live up to those eyes.

They were his mother's eyes.

He heaved a weary sigh. He'd have to go down now, have to face up to his report card. It wasn't even the grades that bothered him, it was his parents. He ducked into clean tee- shirt, pulled it over his head and headed down stairs.

Peter shoved his report card into his Dad's hands and looked to the floor, avoiding his dad's critical eyes. "Hi Dad, hi…"Peter's lips formed the 'm' of Mom, but the words stopped dry in his throat, his mouth frozen. "Hi, Carol." He managed to choke the words out, his throat tight. "I got my report card today."

Carol's eyes widened. "Carol? You never called me Carol before."

Mike gave Peter a stern look. "Now Peter, remember what I told Greg about calling us by our first names. It goes for you too. I don't care how cool it is to call us 'Mike' and 'Carol'. We're Mom and Dad to you kids." He wrapped his arm around Carol and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, which she gladly returned. Peter shifted uncomfortably. He hated when they kissed in front of him.

"Oh,brother." Peter mumbled under his breath, fidgeting anxiously, his nervous energy taking a hold of him.

"What's that, son?" Mike asked ignorantly, slightly annoyed at his kiss being interrupted.

"Stop it!" Peter said boldly, his voice cracking rashly. "Stop making out in front of me! I hate it! I hate it, all of it, stop it!"

Mike looked at him, puzzled. He tilted his head. "Is this about your report card, Peter, because frankly, I am very disappointed in you and I don't think…"

"No!" Peter rashly jumped in. "No, it's about you. No. No. No. Mom. It's about Mom. _You _and Mom. Why aren't you kissing Mom? How can you just stand here and make out with Carol and pretend like none of it…ever happened….how can you live with yourself?"

"Son, I don't what's gotten into you…Carol is your mother. Your only mother. There was never anybody else." Mike shook his head thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I don't understand, are you talking about?"

"Shut up!" Peter screamed hoarsely, his voice cracking. "_Shut up!_ You hated her! You know you hated her!" Tears streamed down his face and his lips cracked as he bit down on it furiously. Blood oozed out of his lip and ran down his chin, upsetting him even more. He hated blood. "She wasn't perfect enough for you! But yet-"

At this point he whirled around violently towards his family, his hair mussed, his eyes wild. " But yet she was so much better than you!" He finally crumpled into an exhausted heap on the floor, limp, peering up into the eyes of his family, his vision blurred by tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He apologized meekly, suddenly weak. "I don't know…I'm sorry."

Carol clung to Mike, her fingernails digging into his shoulder. "Oh, what other woman? Make it stop Mike!" She begged weakly, rather than attending to her traumatized children. Mike himself was shaking with fear, his hands trembling.

Cindy was sobbing uncontrollably, and Bobby looked as if he had just witnessed a massacre. Marcia's eyes were wide and frightened, and a confused Greg wrapped his arm around her, attempting to comfort her. Anger didn't exist in their world.

Only Jan didn't flinch as she sat in the corner, observing the whole affair with a certain degree of interest. Perhaps even pleasure and amusement. Her expression remained unchanged. "You remember your real parents, too?" She inquired softly, genuinely curious.

Too stunned to speak, Peter nodded wordlessly.

**That's it! Thanks for reading Chapter Two and I swear I'll update soon, with the next chapter is Jan's POV...Until then...Have a nice day:) **


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